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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347919">London Falling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrabbitgirl/pseuds/madrabbitgirl'>madrabbitgirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bringer of Light Variations [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, Angel/Demon Relationship, Angels vs. Demons, Canon-Typical Violence, Conductor of light, Demon Jim Moriarty, Demon John, Evil Moriarty, Human Sherlock, John Whump, M/M, Slash if you squint, The Pool Scene (Sherlock), Wingfic, angels &amp; demons, demonic John Watson, preslash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:54:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrabbitgirl/pseuds/madrabbitgirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>John was probably not the universe’s best angel, but he wasn't the worst, which was fine until he had to make a deal with an actual devil. Still, it wasn't so bad, being a demon. He liked temptation more than he cared to admit.</p><p>But when his corrupter returns, calling in a hefty favor that John is bound to return, will John be forced to damn the first real friend he's had in centuries? Or can Sherlock get them out of this mess with his clever human mind?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sebastian Moran &amp; Jim Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes &amp; John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bringer of Light Variations [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>London Falling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadMags/gifts">MadMags</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>* I added this work to a series of stand-alone demon!John pieces called the Bringer of Light series. None of them link up, I just like knowing my demon!John stories are all in the same place.</p><p>* I accidentally got sucked into the Good Omens fandom and while I don't want to write GO fic yet I DID want to know what would happen if our boys were demons. UPDATED: Whelp, that lasted a whole two weeks- it's called Bringer of Light if you're curious.</p><p>* Beta'd by MadMags</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>John was probably not the universe’s best angel, but he wasn’t the worst angel, which he was usually content with.</p><p>The downside was that a better angel would not be bleeding out on a cloud right now. He should have faith that he would be healed, but it was hard to believe when a demon-poisoned blade was lodged in your shoulder. He was fairly certain that angels weren’t meant to have heartbeats or blood at all, but war taught so many lessons as it raged on. The betrayal of the Morningstar was rending the Heavens apart and nothing in creation was as it seemed. </p><p>Sebastian, his once long blond hair shorn into a short cut, sticking up all over, pulled the weapon from John’s shoulder, watching him pant and writhe beneath him. His smirk was mean. “You always were an easy target.” </p><p>“You were one of us, Seb- ah,” John accused, gritting his teeth at whatever evil enchantment was working its way through his form. He felt the toxin seeping across his aura, paralyzing him with pain. Sebastian laughed at him and then made a slice in John’s leg, sending a fresh venomous wave through him. The smaller angel cried out. </p><p>“Well, well, well, Sebby. You’ve taken down one of their soldiers.” The oily voice belonging to the ex-angel known as James was heard before his body materialized. Dripping upwards from the cloud, a slick black substance formed itself into a humanoid shape before solidifying into the demon himself, pointed horns piercing slick, greasy obsidian hair that was otherwise perfectly coiffed. His eyes were solidly as black as pitch that hadn’t been invented yet. John groaned, wanting to spit at him. </p><p>The battle still raged on.</p><p>“Wh-What are you-” </p><p>“Tsk, tssssk,” James hissed gleefully. He crouched down next to John, solid black eyes gazing at him with interest. The pointed bones where James’ wings had once been stuck out behind him, singed from Hellfire and dark as night. “I could make it all better, John. You just have to say the word.” </p><p>John felt some kind of liquid pouring from his mouth as he grunted, trying to focus through the pain.</p><p>“You’re not meant to feel these things, are you? That’s the lie they sold you, Johnny boy. Join us. I can make it allll better,” James sang at him. James’ hand reached out to dance his fingers over John’s chest before plunging them into the wound. The slim digits twisted back and forth. John cried out. “Come along, John. I can heal you. Do you really want to die like this? Come to us and we could have so much fun together.” </p><p>“N-No-” But John wasn’t so sure. James was very, very good at tempting and John didn’t want to die. Sure enough, though, across the fields of blue sky and fluff, he could see the dark figure with no side but his own looming, reaping angels and demons alike, but coming in John’s general direction. He swallowed, feeling his wings twitching beneath him. </p><p>“Just one little favor, John, that’s all I’ll ask in return. And your loyalty to the cause, of course,” James was telling him. It was hard to focus on the angel’s face, but he did. </p><p>“Heaven help me,” John breathed, surrendering and closing his eyes. </p><p>“Beautiful.” James enjoyed John’s reluctant defeat more than he should have. The poison changed. It no longer hurt, but it still sent cold seeping through his body. He lifted his hand, watching his aura change from the brilliant light of the Holy to something dark and twisted and reddish. Seb had come back to them and lifted John into a sitting position, holding him tightly. </p><p>“Do it now, Boss. He ain’t going no where,” Seb said. James grinned and out of nowhere he held one of the holy flaming swords. </p><p>John thought he knew pain. He was a Heavenly soldier, an overseer of war, and as a healer, he always assumed he had experienced every level of pain and suffering.</p><p>Nothing, nothing in all of creation, compared to the moment that James hacked off his wings.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Like little damned snowflakes from Hell, each demon was unique in appearance. The holy beauty they’d once had was warped into something disgusting and hateful. John’s pristine white wings were gone and in their place were a nearly identical set covered in onyx colored feathers which glinted blueish in some lights. He was grateful for that, at least. Some remnant of his former self seemed to hang on as he was cast out from Heaven, a bittersweet reminder of where he should still be. The massive wound on his chest scarred over, as did the slice to his leg, and both gave his reborn body trouble on rainy days. The rest of it- the boils, the blood, the bugs and festering, well, it was easy to avoid looking at yourself in a mirror if you practiced.<p>He was not the best demon in Hell, but he also wasn’t the ugliest, so he could live with that small comfort. </p><p>Moriarty, as James was now calling himself, seemed to stay true to their bargain. Whatever favor was needed in return for saving John’s life, he hadn’t asked for it in thousands of years. He did live in slight fear of that moment. Sometimes the curiosity, the wondering of what it might be that Moriarty would ask for, sent shivers up his spine. They barely saw each other, though, with Moriarty preferring to stay close to the inner circle and the power struggles there and John choosing to live among the humans. He hoped that James forgot, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe he had. </p><p>Existence was tiresome. </p><p>Wars made it slightly more interesting, at least. Influencing people was easy and if it annoyed his former comrades when he tilted the scales in favor of the less deserving, well, he was a demon after all. Watching the humans kill each other, healing them when they were hurt, it broke up the monotony. He wasn’t great at being evil. There was some kind of moral dilemma where he couldn’t bring himself to do anything truly horrible. Temptations, though. He was a great tempter. And if he got an orgasm out of it, well, that was just icing on the demonic cake. </p><p>Being shot was strange. </p><p>It was a lot like being stabbed by Sebastian, actually. His human form leaked red blood onto dusty sand. Losing his body would be interesting, but it hurt, and he hadn’t expected that.</p><p>“Well, hello again, Watson,” Moriarty said, appearing in a swirl of black sand. He gazed down at John with sharp teeth and crazed black eyes. “Oh, dear. You’ve gone and damaged your body. <i>Naughty boy.</i>”</p><p>John could just grunt in return.</p><p>“Same spot, too. Tut, tut, dearie,” Moriarty grinned. “Sebby must just have a lot of nostalgia for that particular shoulder.” </p><p>“You did this?” John managed to strangle out. Moriarty’s inhuman grin widened. </p><p>“You didn’t think you were the only one who got off on the blood and glory, did you? Seb’s been playing with you for <i>years</i>. It’s time to call in that favor, my dear Doctor Watson. You’re going to England, and from there we’ll discuss our terms.” Moriarty hovered his hand over John’s wound. A slimy black aura, much like his oozing manner of transportation, poured from his hand into John’s body. “That will hold you until the human surgeons can repair you. I’ll be in touch, Johnny boy.” </p><p>After that, everything faded to black and John knew nothing else for a long, long time.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Temptations! That was what John was good at!<p>So when he sat in a little cafe being both coldly and awkwardly rejected by this fascinating human with the delightfully perceptive brain, it ruffled his feathers, so to speak. It also made Sherlock all the more delicious. Ever since Adam bit into Eve’s apple, things that were usually out of reach were made all the more delightful once you had them. </p><p>But… he didn’t want to damn Sherlock.</p><p>So many intelligent souls fell to his charms and were damned for all eternity. The silly reasons people chose to sin- for fame or recognition or fortune- but Sherlock wanted none of that. He merely wanted to solve his puzzles. If the alignments meant anything in reality, he would even go so far as to say that Sherlock was probably a chaotic good. He didn’t let anyone but John see it, but he did many good things. It just wasn’t always lawful. </p><p>John dutifully followed Sherlock, protecting him, sometimes even when the detective couldn’t see that he was there. He moved into Baker Street and put up with the toxic experiments and rotting food in the refrigerator (he didn’t need to eat but it was a simple pleasure he enjoyed) because he believed in Sherlock. There were no real such things as guardian angels, but if there had been-</p><p>Alright, well, guardian demon was probably more accurate. But in John’s defense, and it cannot be stated enough, he was not one of the best demons in Hell.</p><p>When Jim from IT walked through the door in Bart’s lab, with sweet, silly little Molly already in his thrall, John couldn’t bear it. No.</p><p>Jim’s smile said yes. <i>He’ll be our greatest asset. His mind will be delightful to corrupt. You’ll</i> love<i> it.</i></p><p>“I need air,” John snapped, excusing himself from the room. He found his way to the top of the building and let his wings out, let his horror show through the kindly facade, feeling the feathers being ruffled in the wind. Moriarty in the same room with Sherlock, orchestrating a deadly game where humans lost their lives- it was all too much for the former angel turned army doctor.</p><p>“John,” Sherlock breathed. </p><p>John had been so absorbed in his own torment that he hadn’t heard him approaching. Usually he was so much better at hiding, but- but the stress of selling his best friend’s soul to the actual best demon in Hell had him distracted. He stood before Sherlock, and Luce knows what his face looked like. Did he have solid black eyes like Moriarty and Moran? Did he have beetles crawling from his nose or sharpened teeth? What horror was Sherlock seeing?</p><p>It had been so long since John saw his own fiendish face that he wasn’t sure what it looked like anymore. He only knew his tarnished feathers. “Sherlock- I-” </p><p>The detective just gazed at him in that calm, clinical manner he had when he was working out a puzzle. Slowly, he stepped forward and lifted a hand to trail over John’s cheek, continuing to take in whatever he saw. His eyes widened, flaring at some discovery, before returning to normal. His lips quirked up into a smile. “Tell me nothing. Let me work it out on my own.” </p><p>“But I- But what about-” </p><p>“The case? I’ve solved it. Now, we wait for the next call. Come on,” Sherlock said, spinning on his heel and leaving John to follow. Which John would. Always.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>“Oh, he won’t move, Sherlock. He can’t,” Moriarty was purring as he circled John. “It’s a nice little trick, isn’t it? If only he’d tried just a little, he could’ve wriggled out of it by now. Such a waste of potential.”<p>The red dot was a burning spike into John’s heart. Moran’s aim had, apparently, improved over the centuries. John winced, but he was more concerned about Sherlock. The idiot was being impossibly calm. Smug, even. </p><p>“You don’t see it,” Sherlock murmured, still aiming the ineffective gun at Moriarty as though it would do anything to stop a full fledged demon. “You think he’s just like you. And I thought you were meant to be clever. What a pity.” </p><p>John’s eyes widened. Sherlock was <i>taunting</i> one of Hell’s finest. </p><p>“See it? See what, a failed force of evil?” Moriarty asked. He was behind John now, and he placed his hand on John’s shoulder. Trails of smoke oozed off of his hand, tickling John’s ear. </p><p>“You really don’t,” Sherlock said, and he grew more confident. He dropped one of his arms and turned the gun towards his own head. All John could think was that Sherlock’s reasoning was if Moriarty wanted his brain, he’d best damage it now? Panic flooded the ex-angel’s body. “And you were meant to be clever.” </p><p>“Sherlock! NO!” </p><p>John didn’t know where the light came from, but it was more blinding than any Heavenly light that he could recall. Everything was blanketed in blinding white and there were no more noises, no more pool sounds or words, nothing. It lasted for an indeterminate amount of time and when it faded, they were in Baker Street, in the front hall. John was panting from exertion, like a human that had run a marathon, but he didn’t know why. Sherlock was smirking at him, but instead of the condescending expression he’d shown Moriarty, there was a fondness when he looked at John.<br/>
“What-” </p><p>Sherlock shook his head and wrapped his long fingers around John’s wrist. He tugged at John until he was following Sherlock numbly up the stairs. Something had changed. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something in his energy felt lighter than it had in eons.</p><p>“Sher-”</p><p>“Shh, just wait,” Sherlock instructed. John allowed himself to be pulled down the hallway and into the restroom. Sherlock flipped the light on and positioned John with his back to the mirror over the sink. “You didn’t see it, either. I could tell you would be the only weapon I’d have against him, my conductor of light.” </p><p>“What are you-” </p><p>“Look, John. Just look.” Sherlock motioned for John to spin, very carefully so they weren’t touching. John winced but did as he was instructed. For the first few minutes he just looked like normal John Watson. Sherlock’s eyes in the reflection were disapproving, and so John let the false image fade. Blue eyes darkened until black marbles stared back, blood pooled at the corners of his eyes and from the seam of his mouth. Festering blisters erupted over his face and throat, and behind him, his jet black wings were tucked and folded against his back. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“It’s- It’s been so long since I- Since I-,” John stopped, at a loss for words. He shrugged. “I don’t know how you can stand to touch me.” </p><p>“Like this,” Sherlock rumbled, stepping even closer behind him. “Allow me to demonstrate.” </p><p>Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, placing his hands over where John’s heart would be if he actually had one. Everything changed. The blisters faded, the blood soaked back into John’s skin and his eyes turned an alarming shade of blue; one that John had only seen in the Above Place. A light began to shine, dusting over John’s skin and through his eyes, and it was bright. Even his wings didn’t look so very black. Sherlock grinned.</p><p>“You might be the worst demon,” Sherlock told him. “But you are an excellent guardian angel.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>* American Written, not Brit Picked, I apologize. </p><p>Thank you so much for reading! </p><p>Find me on <a href="https://madrabbitsociety.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a><br/>or on my <a href="https://www.madrabbitsociety.com/p/insta-links.html">My Blog</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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